Schicksalsschlag
by RarissimaAvis
Summary: Prompt by 100th reviewer, SkyFire86: The Grinsens run into Snape by pure coincidence at a Potions Convention, before Hadria goes to Hogwarts. Featuring Gellert as a concerned (and intimidating) guardian, Severus as a Potions Professor who has no care for kids, and Hadria as Hadria.


**SkyFire86 was my 100th reviewer, and was asked if they wanted to give me a prompt to write.**

 **Originally, upon pondering over the idea, I thought it might have to be non-canon to my Danse Macabre universe, but in the end, when I finished writing it, I realised it _could_ be Danse-Macabre-canon. **

**So, here we have, a scene which I hadn't planned for Hadria, Gellert, and our dear Potions Professor, but will now be incorporated into my main story.**

 **Hope you guys'll enjoy this piece~! And do thank SkyFire86 for their prompt. I'll probably ask the 150th for a prompt if I have the time to write it, if we ever get there, so thanks so much, to everyone, for your support, that has made this possible!**

 **Note for new readers: You should probably read Danse Macabre first, up till Chapter Eight, before proceeding with this side-fic.**

 **Warnings: Fem! MOD! Neutral/Dark! Harry, Time Travelling (of three characters), AU-ish...**

 **Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. Anything not found in Harry Potter Wiki, Pottermore or in the books or movies are likely to be made up by me and do remember this is a fanfiction i.e. I'm borrowing the Potterverse and messing around in it so there may be intentional factual errors.**

* * *

 _The Prompt by SkyFire86: The Grinsens run into Snape by pure coincidence._

 _The Setting: Right before Hadria goes to Hogwarts._

* * *

 **Schicksalsschlag**

* * *

There was a scent reminiscent of freshly baked treacle tarts, rich mahogany, and warm chocolate. The fragrant aroma rose, spiralling, from a steaming cauldron surrounded by colourful bottles.

A large sign floated above the collection, shouting in fancy looping letters: _Most Powerful Love Potion!_

Gellert had to drag Hadria away after she had spent the last five minutes standing there, doing nothing but breathe in the fragrance of Amortentia.

It wasn't as if she wanted to actually buy it, as she later protested. After all, she had no use for such a thing. So Gellert had to teach her how rude it was to stay so long with a product while having no intention of purchasing it.

They were at the European Annual Potions Convention, and all around them were booths and more booths featuring assorted potions. Love potions, truth potions, poisons, antidotes, solutions, essences, draughts, elixirs and many more. There were also booths, but less of them, marketing rare oils, mixtures, and extracts of herbs and animal parts (such as preserved Erumpent Tails). Of course, none of the booths had non-tradeable substances, or if they had, they weren't publicly displayed.

The former Dark Lord had two reasons for going to this Convention with his ward, even though he knew how dangerous it was to bring the ever-curious troublemaker to such an event.

The first was that there was a rare concentrate he wanted, that he'd been searching for with no luck, until the recent advert for the Convention had stated that it was one of the many potion items to be featured there.

And he wasn't sure if he should leave Hadria home alone for more than half a day. Bringing her along was the lesser of two evils.

The second reason was Hadria's disinterest in the art of Potion-brewing. Oh, she was fascinated enough by the physical properties of strange potions such as the flavourful Amortentia, but had little interest in anything else.

Gellert suspected that it may be because she just didn't have enough patience to actually follow proper instructions and go through all the methodical steps of brewing potions. The kid was just too hyperactive.

"It's like cooking," Gellert once sighed, exasperated after the ninth failed attempt at making a common Antidote. "You could cook at five years old… Why can't you manage this?"

Hadria had pouted and, equally exasperated, explained that cooking was a lot different, because one didn't actually have to follow the recipe to the exact detail to produce the perfect dish, partly because there would always be personal taste preferences.

Then she went on to complain about how, with a dish, one could taste the dish to decide if it had enough of this or that. With a potion, one could only tell by its appearance if one was on the right track. Experimenting or improvisation was also rather dangerous when it came to potions, whereas the chances of a dish exploding was infinitely small unless one were simply that horrid a cook that one shouldn't even be allowed anywhere near a stove.

It had been a very long rant and Gellert had wisely avoided the topic of potions for the next couple of weeks.

Back to the Convention, Gellert was desperately trying to bedazzle his ward with the kaleidoscope of potions for sale and exhibition, hoping it would spark some greater interest in Hadria, to prove to her that it was worth her precious time and meticulous effort to brew potions. He was pretty sure she was a lost cause, but he still wanted to try anyway.

"Gerwald, look!" Hadria exclaimed as she pointed to a booth in the distance. There was a whole crowd of people surrounding it, but she could see someone waving a flask of strange-coloured liquid above their heads. On a small stage beside the booth, someone stood tall, features morphing and changing even as he looked into the mirror he was holding.

"Oh, that's Polyjuice Potion," was Gellert's tired reply as he brought her closer to have a peek. It seemed like he was trying to be enthusiastic, but after half a day of wandering through crowds of people and failing at his self-appointed mission, it didn't quite work out. "It changes your appearance to match someone else's, but you'll have to drop a strand of that person's hair into the potion before drinking it. However, it's incredibly hard to brew."

But halfway through his explanation, Hadria had managed to slip away into the huge crowd, something he'd been trying to prevent from happening since the start of the Convention, and had succeeded in doing so, until now.

* * *

Meanwhile, Hadria was slithering through many taller and larger people like a little snake, snickering to herself as she heard Gellert start swearing in what was probably a mix of German and Hungarian.

Frustrating Gellert had become a pastime for her, though she wasn't sure when the whole Potions thing began… But sometime ago, she'd expressed a distaste for potions-brewing, and later began refusing to brew a proper potion for Gellert whenever he tried to teach her.

Perhaps, back when she was a teenager in her previous life, she would say she hated the subject, mainly because she had been horrible at it, and the snarky Potions Professor hadn't made things easier. Of course, later on, she'd discovered how rewarding it was when she could actually brew a perfect potion and use it for something. But Gellert didn't need to know any of that.

And now that she didn't have a guardian breathing down her neck, Hadria was free to check out the more strange (and dangerous) products. She even had a hoard of galleons sitting in the stomach of her 'cloak', which she'd saved up from the pocket money Gellert had been giving her every month, which he assumed she'd spent on Owl-ordering chocolate… Not that she didn't Owl-order chocolate in large batches, because she did, just that she had known she was the Girl-Who-Lived for longer period than he thought, and had no problems—at least, this time around (which she blamed Gellert for—using her name to getting whopping discounts.

In the short span of fifteen minutes, Hadria had bought a small flask of Mandrake Restorative Draught, a vial of Tentacula Essence (made using the sap and juice of Venomous Tentacula leaves, which she wanted to use in some experiments, an idea she got from Weasley twins in her previous life), and a bottle of Ageing Potion.

All of these, she stored in Noh's storage 'stomach'—which was really more like the Undetectable Extended version of a mammal's cheek pouch.

Noh had proven to be a very useful cloak, and his dark shadowy colour always went well with the robes she liked to wear. Today, she was dressed in Slytherin colours, black, green and silver.

Once Hadria was certain she'd gotten everything she wanted, she wondered if she should search for Gellert, who was thankfully taller than the average wizard, or continue wandering around and wait for him to find her.

Her decision was made, the moment she saw one of the last people she wanted to meet.

There was a mop of wavy golden hair above a smiling face with too-white teeth, and Hadria didn't need a second glance to identify the booth the man was visiting as one that had Forgetfulness Potions.

She patted her fringe, making sure the wild black locks covered her forehead, and brushed Noh's cheek. The Lethifold reared its flat head, flaring out a dark shadowy hood, the way a cobra or frilled lizard might when threatened, and she flipped it over her head. Then she hurried away, before he could even catch a glimpse of her.

Hadria knew that it was unlikely anyone would recognise her as the Girl-Who-Lived without prior introduction, since she hadn't even received the Letter yet, but she was taking no risks.

At one point in time—which was to say, the first few seconds she saw him during her back-to-school shopping trip with the Weasleys, before second year had begun—she had thought that Lockhart looked charming enough, but as they say, light travels faster than sound, and he appeared bright before she heard him speak.

(Of course, now that she knew Gellert, Gilderoy Lockhart paled so far in comparison, that even if that fraud was indeed as capable as he claimed he was, Gellert could still steal all his fans if he wanted to… Assuming the fans were either Dark-supporters or ignorant of Gellert's former reputation).

As it turned out, losing herself in the crowd was fairly easy, but finding Gellert was harder, even with his height, because he wasn't the only wizard around with a mop of honey-blonde hair.

Sometimes, Hadria could sense Gellert's magic. It was something she could do after she was familiar enough with the person, though she never really did it consciously until recently. However, this also depended on a combination of physical proximity with the person as well as the level of projection of the person's magic, which in turn depended on the person's magical power.

Gellert was supposed to be easy—he was powerful, and she was familiar enough with it to identify it's wild and fluid nature. But here, in this Potions Convention, there was no way Gellert would leave his magical aura projected about him. He wasn't about to out himself as a very (very) powerful wizard, or risk attracting his old friend's attention just yet. That, and there was also the fact that there were many people here in the convention, and when Hadria tried to focus on the magic in the air instead of the noise and colours, she was left with a numb tingling feeling of sensory overload.

Then she considered projecting her own magic outwards, another thing she'd learnt she could do, because she knew Gellert would be able to find her as easily as she would if he projected his.

Most Wizarding folk's magic stayed obediently just beneath their skin, and occasionally fluctuated out in the form of accidental when they loose control of their emotions, unless they had more magic than their own skins could contain. Then they would have to train to keep their magic tamed and quiet.

Of all the people Hadria knew, only Voldemort and Gellert had magic that she could sense. Voldemort, possibly because he was powerful, and most likely because of the Horcrux connection they had. Gellert, because he definitely was powerful, and she'd spent six years living with him.

(Hadria also suspected that she should be able to sense Dumbledore's, but back in her previous life, she hadn't been so magically-sensitive as she was now, not until Dumbledore had long been dead and gone, and he was always so good at keeping calm and collected that she wouldn't be surprised if he could tame his magic pretty well).

So the question was, how many people would be able to sense her magic if she projected it, and if she would be drawing unnecessary and unwanted attention with it. She certainly didn't want someone to take a second look at her and go: _Isn't that Harriet Potter?_

Five minutes later, Hadria began to wonder if it wouldn't be too outrageous for her to learn how to be an Animagus at age eleven.

In Hadria's previous life, she finally got around becoming an Animagus halfway through her Auror career. But after her 'death' and subsequent time-travel 'rebirth' into this parallel universe, it appeared that such an ability could not be passed on as it wasn't one she was born with (though she did have an innate talent for it), and she would have to relearn it all over again.

Having an Animagus form she could take now would be convenient. All she had to do was to pretend she was a lost (uncommon) pet or animal companion or familiar. Amidst all the crowd and confusion, she was sure her small form would not be noticed even if she were to change right in front of so many people. And if she needed to, she could Disillusion herself while transforming. Then she could make all the noise and attract all the attention she wanted, until Gellert found her (which would actually bring attention to Gellert, but she didn't think it'd be anything he couldn't handle).

In the end, Hadria didn't need to resort to any drastic measures that would certainly draw unnecessary attention to her, like shooting coloured sparks into the air, or using a sonorous charm to yell for Gellert.

No, she bumped—or perhaps, crashed, would be a better word—quite literally into what would later be her solution to her problem.

Because it was the sort of thing that would happen to Hadria.

Like meeting future Professors that she may or may not want to meet.

As it was, Hadria had escaped from being noticed by a totally incompetent wizard whose only real skill was the Obliviate, to crashing headfirst into the frustratingly confusing Potions Professor, who was confusing only because Hadria had still, after more than a hundred years, yet to untangle the mess that was Severus Snape's involvement in her life.

It didn't stop Hadria from being Hadria, however.

So when she looked up after getting a face full of black robes, and saw the scowling expression on a sallow face, with too-dark accusing eyes above a hooked nose, all of which was framed by greasy black hair that looked like he could do with less time with potions and more time in the shower, well.

Well.

(In hindsight, she really should have expected this. It was not just any magical convention, but _the_ European Annual _Potions_ Convention after all.)

But Hadria took it all in stride and grinned sheepishly, easily slipping into her role as a lost child who had just embarrassed herself by colliding with a stranger.

"I'm very sorry, sir," she said, in her most child-like voice (which seemed to get more accented the more childish it got), cheeks flushed with a warm hue that only made the greenness of her eyes stand out. "Gerwald always tells me to look where I'm going, but that potion was very fascinating, sir. So please excuse me, sir." And she bobbed a little bow.

It was all true, of course. Hadria had been just caught a glance of someone showing off his tiny cauldron of Felix Felicis, and she had to crane her neck in her attempt to stare at it a little more through the gaps between people. It was when she was just considering heading over to compare his potion with her own sample that she had walked right into Professor Snape. Who probably hadn't seen her, because she was at least two heads shorter than him, and she'd probably been a small shadow amidst all the other people in the crowd.

At least until her 'hood' had fallen backwards, spilling long and wild raven-black hair, revealing a rosy face with killing-curse eyes.

There was a tense silence, and then, in a soft voice that sounded irritated and vaguely condescending at the same time, "Which potion is this, that has you so easily forgetting sensible instructions?"

"I don't know, sir," Hadria replied bashfully. "But it's golden, like sunshine, and it looks very happy and playful, jumping about in its cauldron."

The dark-haired man glanced over the heads of the milling crowd, being around the same height as Gellert. He must have seen the Felix Felicis booth, but when he looked back down at her, the scowl was still etched into his face.

"And pray, what is a child like you doing by yourself? Where is your guardian?"

Hadria shrugged. "I've lost him, sir, and now I'm trying to find him." She pretended to look thoughtful and innocent. "If you've heard or seen a blonde man saying bad words in German and Hungarian, it's probably him?"

Incredulousness flashed across Snape's face, and Hadria giggled inwardly at it.

"Excuse me, sir, but do you know what that golden potion was?" She questioned when he looked like he was trying to wrap his head around a German (or was it Hungarian?) wizard and his lost child whose eyes were brighter and greener than his lost love's.

It wasn't that there weren't any foreign wizards or witches here, but even though the convention was for anyone in the region to attend, it was being held in the United Kingdom this year, and people from other countries were a minority. (The convention naturally had more variants in nationality when it was held in countries like France or Switzerland).

"It's Felix Felicis, though an ordinary witch or wizard may call it Liquid Luck. It is incredibly difficult to brew, but if done properly, it would make its drinker lucky for a period of time, depending on how much is consumed. However, it should only be taken sparingly, because it'll induce a sense of overconfidence and recklessness when consumed in large quantities. Naturally, it is also banned in competitions."

This was said in his usual soft tone, but with the hint of passion Hadria could detect whenever he spoke about potions (even all those years ago in her previous life, sitting for his lesson for the very first time). When he had finished his explanation, he blinked and sneered at her, and she wondered if he had perhaps begun talking about it before he considered the fact that she wouldn't understand or appreciate what he was saying anyway.

But here was a golden opportunity. And Hadria grabbed at it with both hands, and held on to it so tight the opportunity might just suffocate.

"Wow, you know so much about it. Is it like wine, then? Gerwald tells me I can't have any, 'cuz I'm too young. But I heard it can make you do stupid things if you drink too much," she gushed, widening her eyes and tilting her head so that the lights above might reflect in her green eyes the way she knew would enchant a lesser man.

"I suppose that is a possible comparison," Snape admitted. "But there are many other potions that can do strange and wondrous and just as frightening things to the mind and deceive one's senses."

"Whoa… And you can make potions that does all of these, sir?"

"I am a Potions Master," Snape said, looking at her as if she were an idiot. Which she was fairly used to. But she didn't miss the slight stunned look that had briefly flickered across his face. Perhaps it wasn't often he was praised so openly for his Potions ability?

So she pulled a Colin Creevey without his camera.

"A Master? Even Gerwald isn't a Master! What's your name, sir? Have you invented any potions? Written any books? Can I have your autograph, sir?"

"A Potions Master is a term used to describe the one in charge of supplying necessary potions in Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry," was Snape's irritated and exasperated explanation. "While I have improved on many a potion, I have yet to invent a completely new one. Neither have I written an books, and no, you may not have my autograph."

"Gerwald's told me about Hogwarts! You must be still be very good at potions to be the Potions Master. Has any other Potions Master at Hogwarts improved on potions like you? Do you teach there, sir?" Hadria said, still beaming brightly. She was secretly wondering how long it would take for him to finally get around shaking her off.

"I'm sure there have been previous Potions Masters that have attempted to correct some of the brewing procedures for some potions, but none that I am aware of. And yes, I am a Professor there. Now, if you're quite done—" And there it was, but Hadria was _not_ done.

"Oh, that's just awesome! I'm going to Hogwarts this year. Gerwald says I should receive my Letter by my birthday! If you've improved on brewing potions, does that mean you've experimented on them? Gerwald does not allow me to experiment, which is no fun. He says it's too dangerous, but nothing's really fun if you can't experiment a little. Will I get taught by you? I do hope so."

"… Is Gerwald your guardian?"

"Yes, he's the best guardian I've ever had!"

"Well, your guardian is quite right. Potions can be very dangerous when brewed improperly. Do not even dream of experimenting before you know your textbooks by heart, and can brew all the potions in there with your eyes closed," said Snape. "If I do end up teaching you in Hogwarts this year, I will expect you to follow my instructions to the letter."

Hadria nodded eagerly. "Yes, sir."

Snape looked like he was disinclined to believe her, but said nothing on that matter. Instead, he said, "What's your name, child? Perhaps we could return you to your guardian before you run off and crash headfirst into a boiling cauldron."

"It's Hadria, sir," she answered, flushing once more. "And I'm really sorry, sir, for bumping into you."

He gave her a curt nod, "Yes, you've said that already. Now, since you say you're going to be a student at Hogwarts this year, you may address me as Professor, or Professor Snape."

"Yes, Professor," Hadria blithely replied. He gave her a sideways glance.

"How would you describe your guardian, aside from the swearing in German and Hungarian?"

"Gerwald's tall, like you," she said eagerly. "But he's got short blonde hair. It's like a lighter shade of Felix Felicis. And blue eyes like the sea. Or sky. And he's wearing a black scarf with midnight blue robes over a dark grey shirt, black pants and black dragon-hide boots."

And while it was something Hadria wouldn't think she'd ever see him do, here he was, Severus Snape, helping a lost child find her guardian. But it was possible, she suppose, that he didn't want to imagine what might happen if he were to leave her alone. It seemed as if he'd picked up her troublemaking tendencies a lot faster than Gellert had.

But then, he had wasted no time shelving her in his mind as a troublemaker back in her previous life. This time, while he didn't seem to recognise her name as 'Hadria' as in 'Hadria Potter, daughter of James Potter' (she had Scáth confirm the existence of a Book of Admittance which would have recorded her changed name), he still didn't have any problems drawing the same conclusion from his short interaction with her.

Hadria suspects it's partially because she had crashed into him while distracted, and partially because she herself had admitted to him about wanting to experiment with potions.

And in the subsequent conversation he had with her while helping her find Gellert—a conversation that he didn't have much choice in, Hadria did not bother correcting his assumptions. She was probably going to get House points deducted in the future, when he could do so, simply because he found her or her parentage annoying or something, but she wasn't going to let that stop her from having fun.

* * *

"But why does the direction of stirring make a difference?"

"If everything must be so precise, how can anyone just say 'add three porcupine quills'? I'm sure not all the quills are of the same length or mass? Shouldn't there be a more accurate way of finding out how much you need?"

"And when you heat the potion until it turns a certain colour, how do you know when to stop? Green? Lime green? Apple green? How much green is green? And what if the colour of your cauldron, or your own colour perception affects what you see? What if I'm colour blind?"

The more they walked, the more Hadria seemed to get, and the more questions she asked, throwing away some of her childish air and politeness in her enthusiasm.

Severus Snape first viewed her as a typical child—clumsy, easily distracted and far too hyper. And he actually half expected her to stammer out an apology before running away, as some children were wont to do when they accidentally bumped into him.

She didn't.

Hadria seemed sweet enough when she first spoke, but it appeared that she was some terrible combination between an excited Lion and a curious Raven. If not for the fact that he was concerned that left alone for too long, there was bound to be an explosion, Severus would have made his escape from what appeared to be a strange fangirl as quickly as he could.

Her name was Hadria, and was on a first-name basis with her guardian.

(Which meant that someone who wasn't her parent, either a parent's friend or a babysitter—or both—had, for some inexplicable reason, brought what seemed to be a slippery troublesome child to a Potions Convention of all things).

Severus wonders whose child she is. She had to be a Half-blood or a Pureblood, since she was here even before receiving her Hogwarts letter, and her name sounded familiar, for some reason. But he couldn't remember where he'd heard it.

And her appearance!

The thick jet black hair that framed her flushed face in wild locks reminded him of Bellatrix, before she was sent to Azkaban. Hadria, too, had long black lashes that framed bright shining eyes, but these eyes were not dark, like Bellatrix's. They were, instead, unnaturally green, and Severus knew of only one other person to have had irises that came so close to the colour of the Killing Curse.

But Severus wasn't comfortable, comparing this child he knew little of, to the two women who were so different from each other, it didn't make sense to imagine a child that was a combination of them both. And he didn't really want to think about that nightmare of a dark witch or his lost love…

So, he didn't.

He stopped finding similarities in the child's appearance with people he knew, and instead, found himself humouring the child's endless questions about potion-brewing. To his relief, her questions weren't as idiotic as the ones he'd heard some of his older students ask before.

It didn't make answering her questions any easier, partially because he wasn't sure how to answer some of them.

For example, using colour as a reference for how the potion had progressed was supposed to be a simpler way for non-experts to follow. Why was the child making it sound more complicated than it was? From the sound of it, this child was inclined to hesitate in front of her cauldron figuring out if the colour was really just right or not.

And there really wasn't a need for a first-year to be _that_ precise in their brewing. He expected a certain degree of competency in his students, not perfect genius.

But if he were to tell her that, he feared it discourage her from actually trying to be perfect in her potion-brewing! And possibly start doing things her way. And cause her cauldron to melt or explode. And he already had had enough of those in his classroom.

Then he spotted a striking figure.

Dressed smartly in dark coloured traditional Wizarding robes, a man stood still in the middle of a bustling crowd. He had rich blonde hair that was almost untamed as Hadria's and a young face that was betrayed by strangely old eyes that surveyed the crowd with a razor sharp gaze.

"Is that him?" Severus pointed, only to remember that the child was too short to see anything he could see.

Hadria craned her neck anyway, automatically exclaiming, "Where, Professor? Where did you see him?"

Eager to be rid of the energetic and talkative girl, Severus immediately gripped her wrist and dragged her as he weaved through the crowd expertly.

"Gerwald!" Hadria yelled, when she caught sight of familiar blonde hair.

For a moment, the Potions Master was caught off-guard as he thought he was seeing someone else's eyes (again).

There was nothing reflected in those eyes that hinted at any emotion, but they were just as soul-piercing as Albus Dumbledore's. And they weren't the colour of the sky or sea, as Hadria had described, unless she had been referring to the sky and sea in stormy weather.

"Gerwald!" Hadria repeated blithely, and barrelled right into the tall dark-robed wizard the moment she had a clear path to him.

And the ominous steel blue cleared to reveal light azure sky.

This was promptly followed by a string of harsh words that tumbled out so fast that Severus weren't sure if they were insults or perhaps an entirely different language altogether. Or both.

"I was just… around, if you're asking me where I've been," Hadria gestured vaguely, before giving the stern-faced man a toothy grin. "But if you're asking me where I found this super awesome Potions Master, it was near the Felix Felicis booth."

Severus blinked, and came to a few strange conclusions (some of which were just reinforcements of the ones he'd came up with earlier).

Her guardian was, indeed, a foreign wizard, and had quite some influence on the girl, evident in the girl's strange accent (which usually sounded close enough to British) and the advice she occasionally quoted. But the child was not as foreign as he was, because she clearly did not fully understand what he just said, which had indeed, been something in a foreign language (probably German), but not a bunch of curses or insults. And if she were foreign as her guardian was, she was likely to end up in Durmstrang instead of Hogwarts.

"I need to teach you German—"

So it was German, Severus nodded to himself. Though the wizard's English was as strange as Hadria's, with an accent that wasn't quite… anything at all. It was as if the two of them had spent their lives travelling all over the world and had picked up hints of each country as they went along.

"—And what do you mean 'super awesome Potions Master'?"

He also noted that the guardian, Gerwald, had given up the subject of the child's disappearance far too quickly to be normal.

"He's a Professor at Hogwarts, and he's gonna teach me Potions someday!" Hadria gushed. "I can't wait!"

"I beg your pardon? Since when were you interested in learning Potions?" Gerwald sounded incredulous.

"Since I met Professor Snape!" Hadria replied excitedly, and this unexpectedly got Severus a sharp look from her guardian.

But all he said was, "I see. Well, I think I should thank you, Professor, for returning Hadria, and… igniting her passion for Potions. I do hope it wasn't too much of a trouble for you…"

The Potions Master didn't think it possible, but something in the guardian's tone made him feel like he was standing in front of the Dark Lord once again, back when the powerful wizard was still a charming, shrewd and dangerous man. It felt like a cold breath on the nape of his neck.

"Oh no, she was quite a well-behaved precocious child, all things considered," Severus said politely, while he wondered _just who on earth were they_. "Especially if I were to compared to many of the… students I've had to teach."

Gerwald nodded, though it was just a short and abrupt sort of movement of the head. "That's… good."

Except that didn't sound good at all.

Then there was an awkward silence in which Hadria glanced from one man to the other. She seemed to make up her mind about something, and turned to Severus.

"What he means to say is that he is very grateful to you," she said with a sweet but sheepish smile. "But at the same time, I think he's rather envious of you, Professor, for finding me and… converting me to Potions, before he did, so you'll have to forgive him for that."

Severus stared, and Hadria stuck her hand behind her, into the depths of her cloak—which he only just noticed was darker than it should be, almost as if its very material was sucking light out of its surroundings.

"Um, a token of thanks and apology," Hadria said, and produced a bouquet of flowers the way magicians do—with exaggerated flourish and bow. The bouquet was a bundle of silver-grey cloth wrapped below spikes of white inflorescence interspersed with the forest-green and chestnut-brown of sepals and leaves. "I heard from Gerwald that they could be useful for Potions?"

He accepted the bouquet from her with uncertainty that he did not show. She couldn't possibly have kept the bouquet in some pocket in her cloak the entire time, could she? But then, he had seen Muggle magic tricks as impressive as that before, like releasing a flock of doves from a hat.

"See you at Hogwarts, Professor?" The raven-haired girl said as she watched him expectantly.

And he found that he could only sigh and say dryly, "I don't think we can help that."

Hadria grinned and waved, as he gave her a last nod, gave Gerwald one last wary glance, looked between the two with a disturbed expression, and left, eyeing the flower bouquet in his hand as he did so, half-expecting it to disappear or turn into something else.

It said something, however, that he had accepted the flowers in the first place, but it was as strange as the girl herself, that it had seemed almost natural to accept them at that time.

* * *

Hadria giggled as she watched the Potions Professor leave. She mentally patted herself on the back. It had been a job well-done.

"Do I want to know what you currently have in Noh's storage stomach?" Gellert asked.

She didn't actually pull the bouquet out of the Lethifold, of course—she had actually conjured them wandlessly and non-verbally—but she didn't bother to remind her guardian of that she could do that, since it was funnier to just follow along and…

"Well, I've got an emergency supply of Chocolate Frogs, blood pops and pumpkin juice in there, and a couple of books, an umbrella, a stuffed spider, a wooden snake toy, and I think Snag's in there as well." (And neglected to mention the several potions she had as well).

Gellert glared at her. "I didn't actually ask for a list."

The girl merely gave him a toothy grin.

"And what was that with… Professor Snape?"

"Don't worry, Gerwald. You're still my idol."

" _What?_ "

"So, did you find what you were looking for?"

"Don't ignore my question, and no, I was too busy looking for you!"

"What is it, anyway?"

"… Tentacula Essence."

"Oh, it's that way."

"… And how do you know that?"

Hadria smiled to herself but did not answer.

* * *

Hadria – 2, Gellert – 0, Snape – 0.

* * *

 **And because I could not resist, here is a little extra:**

* * *

It was rare, that Severus had anyone in his office during the holidays, but a new school year was starting, and sometimes, Albus liked to pay him a surprise visit instead of inviting him to the Headmaster's office.

This was usually after the annual start-of-year Head-of-House meeting.

To make sure he's prepared for the new students, and not to be so harsh on them, and they can't all be Potions prodigies, and he knows why he can't possibly have him as a Defence Professor.

His office was a dimly-lit room filled with shelves of morbid curiosities kept in jars. He had a table in the middle, made of dark wood, and a fireplace in the corner, beside his personal Potions cupboard. Few liked to find themselves in this room, for it had a certain gloomy and secretive atmosphere, as if the shadows themselves hid stranger arcane things that no one should ever meet.

It suited Severus just fine, for it made his students wary, and less likely to touch something they shouldn't. And he didn't like children lingering in his office for too long anyway.

But now, there were two new additions to the usually grim ensemble.

The first was the Albus Dumbledore, in all his brilliantly purple glory, complete with twinkling blue eyes behind half-moon spectacles, his long silvery white beard, and a small bowl of sherbet lemons.

He sat there, smiling gently, looking just a little serious and grandfatherly enough for their conversation, which was soon interrupted by a knock on the door. The elderly wizard then looked at him curiously, but Severus wasn't expecting anyone.

"Severus! Albus!" Professor McGonagall was standing there, when Dumbledore answered the door—because Severus had taken his own sweet time about it, not being very keen on having anyone else here at the moment. She looked like she might have ran all the way here from her office.

"Minerva," Dumbledore greeted in return, now looking like _he_ had been expecting her. "Is it good news?"

"Well, in a way, I suppose," the witch dressed in deep viridian replied. "We don't have an exact location, but the Letter was addressed to 'Cornwall'."

Now Severus knew what it was all about—the Potter girl, or, as he liked to think in his mind, The Troublesome-Brat-Who-Disappeared. The Order, whose current (only) purpose was to keep an eye out for the girl, had been waiting for this very day, when the Quill of Acceptance would help address a Hogwarts Acceptance Letter to the girl.

"That's all?" Dumbledore sounded a little disappointed. That was unsurprising, as Cornwall wasn't small, and if the location was Unplottable or under a Fidelius, they wouldn't be able to find it at all.

"Here," McGonagall took out a letter and handed it to Dumbledore. "But should send it out by tonight. An owl should be able deliver it, detailed address or not, as long as there are no owl-repelling wards around the area."

So much fuss, Severus lamented, over a brat who couldn't even stay where she should. And there was no doubt she was going to come to Hogwarts all spoilt and self-entitled, having been brought up by Wizarding folk who would only treat their Saviour like a princess.

"Ah, 'The Little Sanctuary'," Dumbledore read aloud, looking at the Letter over his long crooked nose. "That would be the name of her bedroom, I presume?"

"Yes," said McGonagall. "And from the sound of it, she isn't treated too badly, or we might have something along the lines of 'Second Dungeon Cell'."

There was a snort, and Dumbledore glanced over.

"Names could be deceiving, Minerva. But yes, I doubt a kidnapper would legally adopt her and change her name only to ill-treat her. Hopefully, we'll get a positive reply, and our worries can be temporarily put to rest. And Severus, please keep in mind that she is also Lily's child. You, too, should hope that no harm of any sort has befallen dear Hadria."

This was promptly followed by a crash, and both Minerva and Dumbledore were startled to see that Severus had accidentally knocked over a vase of flowers in a sudden bout of clumsiness.

The vase of flowers was the second addition to the room that was unusually bright, something which Dumbledore had noted when he first entered the dungeon office, but Severus had been curiously tight-lipped about them, saying nothing except that they had lasted a lot longer than he had expected them to.

They were snow-white, and bloomed in spiky clusters like miniature frost-covered pine trees, sprouting out of a dark glass vase… Or at least, they had been, before Severus knocked them over. Now, they were spilled across the cold stone floor, like a splash of brilliant moonlight amongst raven-black shards and scattered emerald leaves.

Then they heard their colleague cuss aloud for the first time.

* * *

Hadria – 3, Gellert – 0, Snape – 0.

* * *

 **And there we go! Look out for the next time Snape and Hadria sees each other in the next chapter of Danse Macabre, which should be up in one or two week's time.**

 **Thanks for reading~ Feel free to PM me or leave a review with your comments or questions.**


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